


Not Him

by Amber_Angel



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Boyf friends, Cuddles, Fluff, I'm Sorry, M/M, Manipulative Squip, Mental Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, eventually, there will be a happy ending I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-03 02:56:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12739593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amber_Angel/pseuds/Amber_Angel
Summary: The Squip is a manipulative bastard, and Michael is just trying to help. Unfortunately, Jeremy is having a hard time distinguishing between what's real, and what the Squip is making him see. This started out as an excuse to write cuddly boyfs.





	1. The Squip Enters

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, okay, hear me out. I have a weak spot for cuddles and Michael taking care of Jeremy. (You would never be able to tell, right?)
> 
> This was supposed to be cute. And I promise it will be! Just... not right now.

**Get your hands out of your pockets.**

 

Jeremy quickly slipped his hands from his jeans, leaving them hanging awkwardly at his side. 

 

**Arch your back. Puff out that scrawny chest.**

 

Ignoring the covert insult, Jeremy obeyed, clenching his hands into fists as discomfort set in. The Squip smacked at them, and it didn't seem to matter that the blow phased through Jeremy's body; he flinched all the same. 

 

**Jeremy, you need to portray an air of confidence, or how do you expect anyone to like you?**

 

“Michael likes me,” Jeremy muttered, averting his gaze. Unconsciously, he began to slouch. A quick shock rocketed up his back and he straightened out with a sharp hiss. 

 

**Michael needs you. There's a difference. The only reason that he spends time with you is because you two are on the same step of the social ladder. That is to say, you are both social rejects, and as the saying goes, birds of a feather...**

 

The Squip glared down at him as Jeremy's eyes watered and he had to force himself to keep his arms at his sides when he wanted to wrap them around his chest and hug himself. This was too much, and Jeremy was beginning to regret even buying the Squip in the first place. He wanted it to go away. He wanted to run, find Michael, throw his arms around his friend and bury his face in the familiar red hoodie. His hands began to drift across his chest involuntarily, but a harsh shock sent them fluttering back down again. 

 

**Interesting** , the Squip commented, fixing Jeremy with a calculating gaze as it circled him.  **I wonder if you would respond better to** \- its body began to glitch, electrical molecules changing and rearranging. The light skin darkened, neatly combed hair lost its black shine, cold features warmed, and suddenly Jeremy was flinching away from a perfect image of his best friend - **this form?**

 

“Oh, God, why would you do that, please don't, change back, please,” Jeremy begged, heart pounding. He could take thinly veiled insults and directives from Keanu Reeves, because that was one thing. But Michael? That was quite another. 

 

**No, I don't think I will.** The bastard actually had the audacity to grin, sticking out his tongue in a way that was so distinctly Michael that it made Jeremy's chest ache.  **I mean, really, isn't this better? Now you don't have to let go of that miserable stoner. It'll make the separation easier.**

 

“Separation?”

 

The Squip huffed, coughed, and when it spoke again, it was in Michael's voice. 

 

**Yeah, man. You can't keep on hanging around me if you want to get any higher on the social hierarchy. Anyway, not like it'll be that much of a loss, right? Look at me, Jere. I'm a loser.**

 

“Michael isn't a loser,” Jeremy protested, voice shaking. 

 

**Riiiiight, and Jake Dillinger isn't hell on wheels. Face the facts, Jeremy. You're better off without me and you know it.**

 

“No, I'm not!”

 

**Oh. Interesting…**

 

“What do you-?”

 

“Jeremy?” Jeremy almost flinched when the hands landed on his shoulders, cutting off his speech, sure that somehow the Squip had manifested a physical form. But the grip wasn't cold or cruel. It felt nice, comforting even. If this was the Squip, it was obviously trying a different approach. 

 

“Jere, hey, look at me.” Gentle fingers guided his chin upward, and Jeremy's darting eyes registered Michael's face a second before he ducked his head again, now panicking in earnest, bracing for the shock that shot down his neck a second later, bringing fresh tears to his eyes. God, it _was_ the Squip. It figured him out, it was punishing him, wasn't it? It had barely been activated for ten minutes and already it knew all of his secrets. 

 

“Okay. C'mon, Jeremy, we're gonna go. My Cruiser’s right outside, alright? Then you can tell me what happened.” Michael took one of his hands and guided him out of the mall. Jeremy could feel the concerned glances that Michael sent him every few seconds. They felt even worse than the tiny shockwaves that the Squip sent running up and down his arm. 

 

When they reached the battered P.T. Cruiser, Michael opened the door for Jeremy before rounding the car to the driver's seat. He got in, started the car, and then turned to his friend. 

 

“Alright, what's wrong?” he sounded so genuinely concerned that it physically hurt, knowing that it was all just an illusion, just the Squip trying to fuck him up.

 

“Please stop,” Jeremy whispered, turning away. “I can't take any more.” 

 

“Jeremy, what are you-”

 

“- **talking about? I'm just trying-**

 

**“** -to help you!”

 

“I don't want your help!” Jeremy cried, and smacked feverishly at the hands that Michael extended towards him. The shocked look on his friend's face only served to upset him further. 

 

“Jeremy, I don't-”

 

“- **understand why you're being so stubborn. You need me.”**

 

“No! I don't _need_  you! I never needed you!” 

 

The careful hand on his shoulder jerked back as though it had been burned, and when Jeremy turned to look at his friend, Michael was staring at him, his face a cross between upset and offended. 

 

“Okay.” His voice sounded steely, and Jeremy heard the Squip laugh in his ear. “You shouldn't need a ride home, then.”

 

“Wait, Michael-”

 

“Get out of my car!” Michael yelled. In his ear, the Squip tutted.

 

**Ah, Jeremy, you see? You obviously need my help. At least you won't have to go through the tedious process of breaking ties now.**

 

“Oh, God,” Jeremy breathed, as realization set in. This was Michael. Real, live Michael, who he had just insulted, who was still glaring at him, still pointing a shaking finger at the car door. 

 

“Out!” Michael shrieked, and Jeremy went, shivering at the cold that hit his thin body as soon as he opened the door. 

 

He had barely even taken two steps back before Michael practically slapped the car into drive, leaving Jeremy quaking in the mall parking lot. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Me: You said you were going to write fluff!
> 
> Also me: You tagged Angst and Manipulative Squip for a reason
> 
> Me: Time to hurt these characters that I love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have another chapter because I have no impulse control! This is tagged as it is for a reason. Stay safe!

**I don't see why you're so upset, Jere,** Squip-Michael muttered, crossing his arms from where he drifted beside Jeremy. 

 

“Don't call me that! Only Michael gets to call me that,” Jeremy snapped, arms stuffed deeply into his pockets. 

 

**But I am Michael. I have his appearance, his personality, everything you need for a perfect clone. Just give me a few days to settle into the role, and you won't even notice the difference.**

 

“And that! That is why I'm upset!” Jeremy shouted. “You honestly think that I would prefer a clone over my best friend? One that's constantly insulting me? Michael would never do that!”

 

**But he does. I have access to your memory banks, Jeremy. Michael calls you a loser almost every day.**

 

“It's called teasing, Quantum-Chip. What you do isn't the same.”

 

**Of course it is! I'm just a bit more… serious? Honest?**

 

“Brutal,” Jeremy supplied, scowling as he turned into his driveway. “My feet hurt.”

 

**That's not my-**

 

“Actually, yes, yes it is your fault.” Jeremy scowled and climbed the stairs to his room. 

 

**No, you are the one who offended your ride.**

 

“Ugh, just… can you leave me alone?” he asked, flopping down onto his bed with an aggravated sigh. “I can barely think. And I need to talk to Michael- the real Michael- and apologize.”

 

**And undo all your progress? Jeremy, contacting Michael is not in your best interest. Besides, what makes you think he'll want to talk to you?**

 

“Because he's my best friend,” Jeremy said confidently. “Because he knows that we both have our bad days, and he won't hold a grudge against me for one little slip up.”

 

**Won't he? You saw his face. He was hurt. Even on your worst days, you've never hurt him like that before.**

 

“But I can explain…”

 

The Squip-Michael barked out a laugh. 

 

**Explain… what? That a computer in your brain made you do it? He'd never buy it. You'd only be making yourself more pathetic in his eyes.**

 

Jeremy's shoulders slumped. His hand, which had been reaching for his phone, retracted, unsure. What if Michael _didn't_ want to talk to him? What if he really had crossed a line?

 

**Exactly, Jeremy. Michael won't want to hear anything you have to say. Not that it's any big loss. That boy will never amount to anything but a pathetic waste of potential.**

 

No. Jeremy could sit and take abuse from this psychotic computer pill, but he wouldn't let it insult Michael. Especially not while it was wearing his face. 

 

“You're wrong. Michael is amazing. He has so much talent, and he's going to do great things someday.”

 

**Oh? So why hasn't he done those ‘great things’ already? Is there something holding him back?**

 

“He… he isn't fully developed yet. He hasn't tapped into his full potential. He's only seventeen.”

 

**So? There are people on this earth, children, Jeremy, who have been labelled prodigies at age _twelve_. Often younger. Why, even Mozart composed his first piece at age five. All these people, doing all of these amazing things, so young. So I say again, what is his excuse? What is holding him back?**

 

It had a point. A horrible point, but a point nonetheless. It was something that Jeremy himself had often contemplated, especially late at night, curled up under his cold blankets with nothing to distract his mind. 

 

All those people doing all those amazing things… and what had he ever done? Why wasn't he as good as them? Maybe he wasn't smart enough, maybe he didn't work hard enough, maybe it was just an all-around lack of talent. But Michael… whatever those child prodigies had, Michael had it and more. He was an excellent student without even really trying. And he could sing. God, could he sing. Sometimes on those bad nights, Jeremy would call him and ask for a song. It didn't matter what Michael sang; he always found himself drifting off within the first few minutes. 

 

So why was Michael still stuck here and not graduating early, attending classes at Harvard and challenging his brain for once? Why was he going to go to a slummy community college and probably end up pouring slushies at 7/11? 

 

Because of Jeremy, of course. Because they had promised each other long ago that life was, and always would be, a two player game. That they would stick together and have each other's backs, no matter what. 

 

**Yes, that's right, Jeremy.** Squip-Michael coughed, and took on Michael's easy tone. It sounded so wrong paired with the cutting words.  **See? You're holding me back, man. Even if I do forgive you for today, do you really think I want to be chained to you my whole life?**

 

Jeremy shook his head and bit his bottom lip, ignoring the sting. 

 

**I mean, let's face the facts, Jere. I'm better off without you.**

 

A soft sob escaped Jeremy's lips, and he screwed his eyes shut to escape Squip-Michael’s disgusted glance. It was true. If he wasn't such a loser, Michael could have done so much by now. Could have gotten so far. But instead he was just… stuck here, in hellscape high school because of the dead weight that he was forced to call his friend. 

 

A tear slipped down his cheek.

 

**That's what I'm talking about, Jeremy. Do you honestly think I want to hang with such a crybaby? You're pathetic.**

 

“I'm pathetic,” Jeremy found himself repeating. 

 

**Everything about you is horrible. You make me want to die.**

 

“Everything about me is horrible,” Jeremy flatly agreed. “Everything about me makes me want to die.”

 

**Exactly. But, hey, we can fix that! If you just listen to me, you can be cool, Jere! You won’t even have to wait until college, haha. You can be someone that I won't have to be ashamed to be seen with.**

 

Jeremy nodded numbly. If Michael needed him to be cool, he could do that. He could get better. For Michael. Anything for Michael. 

**That's the spirit, bud. Now, c'mon and get to sleep. We'll have to start working tomorrow.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uhhh... I tried to make it happier?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Negative tags still apply. Be safe!

**No, Jere, you have to stop slouching. If you do it again I'll have to shock you.**

 

“Please don't,” Jeremy murmured, rubbing his wrist as he straightened his back. He had gotten a nasty surprise that morning after he tried to engage in some- ahem- self-indulging activities. The surprise being a hell of a shock that travelled all the way up his arm and actually left a tiny scar on the inside of his wrist. It was barely noticeable, but Jeremy couldn't stop tracing it. It was a reminder of his failure. Of how he'd failed Michael. And it was a warning. He couldn't mess up again. 

 

**Jeremy, I wouldn't have to punish you if you would just do what I say.** Squip-Michael sounded exasperated. 

 

“I'm sorry,” Jeremy whispered. 

 

**Turn around. Now.** Squip-Michael’s tone was hard, commanding, and Jeremy immediately did as he was told, turning to fiddle with his locker combination lock. He needed to get his history textbook, anyway. 

 

A tap on his shoulder made him gasp, spinning on his heels to see Michael- the real Michael- standing in front of him. He looked hesitant and unsure, hand still slightly outstretched. 

 

“Michael.” It wasn't even a whisper that came out of Jeremy's mouth, more a warbling breath, but Michael seemed to hear him anyway. His hand dropped to his side, and he favored Jeremy with a smile. There was an overwhelming urge to just throw himself into his friend's arms, breathe in the soothing vanilla and weed smell of Michael's hoodie, and let Michael make him feel okay. But the voice of Squip-Michael was louder, and more insistent. 

 

**Don't even think about it, Jeremy. I never liked you clinging to me. Keep your hands to yourself.**

 

“Hey, Jere,” Michael said, smile quirking, becoming more of a shy grin. “I, uh, wanted to apologize for yesterday.”

 

“No, no, yesterday was my fault!” Jeremy blurted, trying not to look at Squip-Michael as he shook his head in the background. “I was an ass, and I'm sorry.”

 

The grin slowly fell from Michael's lips, and Jeremy could have cried. He didn't know what he said wrong. Michael was supposed to be happy now, why wasn't he happy? 

 

**Isn't it obvious, Jeremy? One little apology isn't going to make it all better. I'm still mad.**

 

A tiny shock pricked at his back, and Jeremy had to bite his lip to hold back a gasp. Michael tilted his head with a concerned frown.

 

“Are you okay, Jere? You look kind of pale.”

 

**Joke.**

 

“I'm always pale, Mikey,” Jeremy teased, the words falling flat. “Seriously, I'm fine.”

 

A soft hand cupped his cheek and Michael examined his face, squinting in concentration. Jeremy chuckled and pushed him away, ignoring the greedy urge inside him that pouted at the loss of contact. 

 

“That may be true, but… ah, nevermind. It's probably nothing,” Michael said, waving it off. Still, his eyebrows had a distinct downward curve to them that made Jeremy nervous. 

 

**It's because I'm tired of you, but I don't know how to tell you to fuck off** , Squip-Michael supplied helpfully, glitching its way along the hall behind them.  **You need to leave me alone. Besides, bigger fish, Jere-Bear. Two o’ clock, Brooke Lohst. She's high up on the social ladder, Jere. After class, you're gonna give me some peace and go talk to her.**

 

“O-okay,” Jeremy mumbled. Michael shot him a look.

 

“Okay what?” he asked, shouldering open the door to their Algebra class. 

 

“Oh, uh…”

 

**Nothing. Just thinking out loud.**

 

“Just thinking out loud.” 

 

“Ha. You gotta be careful with that, Jeremy,” Michael teased, nudging him. “If you always speak your mind, you're not gonna have much of it left.” 

 

Jeremy laughed- it felt so good to laugh- and started to lean into Michael's side when a shock on his spine stopped him. This time he couldn't control his gasp, but the teacher was already walking in and waving students to their seats. Michael didn't have time to ask. 

 

**Ah, bad slip up there, Jere. You gotta learn to keep your shit under wraps.**

 

He couldn't very well talk back in a crowded classroom, especially not when the teacher was picking up a dry erase marker to start his lecture. That didn't stop the Squip from talking, though. 

 

**See, maybe if you weren't so pathetic, such an open book, I could stand to be around you. If you weren't such an ugly loser with mommy issues, you might be okay to hang with. But you are. Y'know? I mean, God, if I were your mom I'd have left too. I wouldn't have wanted to deal with** \- Squip-Michael sneered and waved his hand in Jeremy's direction-  **that** . 

 

The words hurt, but they were the truth, Jeremy reminded himself. They were what he deserved. 

 

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he saw Squip-Michael beam and nod. 

 

**Now you're getting it! You _do_ deserve this, Jeremy. You deserve all of it. **

 

“I deserve all of it,” Jeremy breathed. No one heard. 

 

**Because you're a waste of space.**

 

“I'm a waste of space.”

 

**And if you would just listen to me, and do what I say, we could change that, couldn't we? But you can't seem to understand that. You can't seem to obey. You always have to fuck shit up!**

 

Shit. Jeremy was going to cry. He was going to cry in fucking Algebra as his teacher droned on about the quadratic function. 

 

Suddenly there was a tap on his shoulder, and when he reached a hand behind him, warm fingers interlaced themselves in his. 

 

Michael. He always knew when Jeremy needed him. 

 

**But do you really think I _like_ acting as your therapist? I'm not here to be your emotional support, Jeremy, I'm here to achieve my goals, and you're supposed to be getting out of my way. **

 

A squeeze of the fingers and he found Squip-Michael’s voice fading in favor of savoring the warmth of real-Michael's hand, the roughness of his friend's thumb as it slowly dragged across his knuckles in comforting circles. 

 

‘God, I love you,’ Jeremy thought. 

 

**That's exactly why you shouldn't be taking advantage of me like this.**

 

Squip-Michael was right… it was wrong to let himself enjoy Michael's touch like this when Michael didn't even know the full extent of why Jeremy was so touchy. 

 

**And I don't want to know. Keep your gay thoughts to yourself, Jeremy. Now buck up, class is almost over and you've got a girl to chat with.**

 

Reluctantly, Jeremy pulled his hand back and stood up as the bell rang. He could feel Michael's eyes on his back, and it made him want to shy away. Even so, he forced himself to walk over to Brooke’s desk, fearing the shocks that he knew would come if he didn't. 

 

**Well don't just stand there, Jeremy. Say hey.**

 

“Hey,” Jeremy said weakly. Brooke did look up at him, but she looked more concerned than anything. 

 

“Hey… uh, Jerry, right?”

 

“Jeremy, actually. I, um, I like your shirt.”

 

**It looks sexy.**

 

Jeremy flinched. He couldn't say that to a hot girl! But Squip-Michael leered. 

 

“It looks sexy.”

 

“Oh! Thanks! I got it on sale, actually, and I was hoping that someone would notice, but you're the first person to say anything,” Brooke said excitedly. “Which is so sweet, because, like, I've never even talked to you before.”

 

“Heh… yeah,” Jeremy stuttered awkwardly. A shock rolled through his jaw. The bolts kept his mouth shut tight against the cry that wanted to spill out, but his face must have changed, because Brooke frowned and laid a delicate, concerned hand on his arm. The jolts stopped at once. 

 

“Jeremy? Are you okay?”

 

“I-I'm fine, yeah. Just tired, I guess.”

 

“Okay… you just look a little wobbly. Do you want me to walk you to your next class?”

 

“You don't have to do that-” another shock tore violently down his spine, and it was all he could do to stay standing. 

 

“It's not a problem, really!” Brooke insisted, gathering her things. “Besides, you seem really nice! I'd love to talk to you more.”

 

“O-okay then,” Jeremy agreed shakily. 

  
He didn't see Michael staring after them as they left. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know I've said it for the past few chapters, but this chapter is the main reason for the Suicidal Thoughts tag. Please stay safe! 
> 
> Don't beat me up too much, though, I also fit in some comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented! Even if I don't reply, I read every one, and I feel so blessed. Anyway, enjoy this mess.

Lunch was a painful affair. Brooke had invited him to sit with her when they parted at Jeremy's Physics classroom, but as soon as he walked into the cafeteria, an arm looped around his, and he found himself staring into Michael's smiling eyes. 

 

“Hey, Jere,” Michael greeted, grinning. Jeremy smiled back and leaned his head onto Michael's shoulder, flinching at the resulting shock. 

 

“Hey, Mikey,” he muttered, straightening up again. 

 

**Mikey? Come on, Jeremy, what are we, third graders?**

 

“But you call me Jere,” Jeremy pointed out, remembering too late that Michael was still standing beside him. 

 

“Uh, yeah…? Do you not like it or something?” Michael asked, retracting his arm. 

 

**There, see, now you've gone and upset me again. Really, Jeremy, you're worthless.**

 

“I'm worthless,” Jeremy whispered in agreement, starting to shiver. Their school might be a hellscape, but it was colder than a walk-in freezer. He usually clung to Michael for warmth, but now his friend was frowning at him. 

 

“Jeremy, what are you talking about? Seriously, what's up with you? You've been acting weird all day. Longer than that, even! Ever since…” His eyes widened as he found the memory. “It worked, didn't it? The pill?” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

Michael's eyes lit up and he grinned, throwing his arms around Jeremy, hugging him tightly. 

 

“That's amazing! Woah, what's it like?”

 

“It's, uh, really something,” Jeremy replied, wriggling away from the contact as slivers of electricity ran up and down his spine. “It's trying to help me work out all my bugs, ha.”

 

“Your… bugs?”

 

“Yeah, you know, everything that's wrong with me.”

 

Once again, electricity froze his jaw shut, and Squip-Michael snarled at him.

 

**Don't guilt-trip me, Jeremy. It's a pathetic form of attention seeking.**

 

“Jeremy, what the hell do you mean? There's nothing wrong with you!” Michael protested, grabbing Jeremy's wrist. 

 

**Look at what you've done. It's exhausting, honestly, patching up all your insecurities! You're not worth my time!**

 

“I'm not… worth your time,” Jeremy mumbled, moving to pull away. Michael wouldn't let him. 

 

“Jeremy, we are not having this discussion in the school cafeteria, okay? Come on.” There was a tug on his wrist and Michael led him out of the cafeteria. 

 

“Where are we going?” Jeremy asked flatly. 

 

“Home. I don't know what's going on between you and that pill, but I do know that school isn't going to help.”

 

**Jeremy, you're doing it again. I'm giving up another day just to take care of you. You're consuming my life.**

 

“I didn't mean to!” Jeremy wailed, yanking his arm away from Michael so violently that he stumbled and fell to the blacktop of the school's parking lot, skinning his palm as he tried to break his fall. 

 

**It doesn't matter if you meant to or not, Jeremy. The fact is, you _did_. You're so annoyingly dependent, so obviously broken, it's a wonder that I've stuck around for this long. **

 

“Jere-” Michael's concerned face came into his vision, and he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, another softly raising his wrist for examination. Michael's thumb traced the small electrical scar. 

 

**-my. Listen to me. You. Are. Worthless.**

 

“I am worthless,” Jeremy repeated dutifully. He didn't see how Michael's jaw clenched at his words. He didn't even feel how his best friend's grip tightened as he lowered himself to his knees. Jeremy's eyes were fixed on Squip-Michael and his cold, hateful sneer. 

 

**You are nothing to me. Just a burden that I was too polite to decline. And now I'm stuck with you, and I want to let go, Jeremy, I want to let you go, but _you won't let me_ , even though you know that I'd be better off without you. _Everyone_ would be better off without you. **

 

Jeremy let out a choked sob, and Squip-Michael sent a shock down his neck. 

 

**You can't even keep quiet. You can't even let me help you improve. If you could just _listen_ then maybe I wouldn't hate you so much. Maybe you'd be someone who deserved me. **

 

“I don't… deserve you.”

 

**Maybe you'd be someone who deserved to live.**

 

“I don't deserve to live.” 

 

Then Michael's arms were around him, cutting him off, and blocking his view of Squip-Michael. One of his friend's hands buried itself in Jeremy's hair and pushed his head to Michael's shoulder. He could feel the boy trembling. 

 

“J-Jeremy, I don't know why you would think… any of those things, but you're wrong. You're not worthless. You are worth _everything_. So don't you dare say you're not good enough for me. Don't you dare say you don't deserve to… God-” Michael gasped and pulled Jeremy closer. They were almost completely intertwined now, Michael's arms wrapped tightly around Jeremy's thin chest, holding his friend in his lap. Jeremy could only sit there, eyes closed as he breathed in the comforting vanilla-weed smell of Michael's hoodie. After a while, his rapid breathing slowed and the tiny hiccuping sobs ceased. 

 

“I-I'm s-sorry, Micah,” Jeremy started, but Michael shushed him firmly before the sobs could start up again, squeezing the nape of his neck gently. 

 

“You don't have anything to apologize for,” Michael assured him. “But we'll probably want to move soon. Kids’ll be coming back from lunch, and I don't want us to get run over.”

 

“Okay,” Jeremy murmured, but he couldn't force himself to pull away. “I can't…”

 

**Pathetic, Jeremy.**

 

“Hey, that's alright. I can carry your little twig body easily enough,” Michael teased, slipping an arm under Jeremy's knees as he rose to his feet. “See?”

 

He carried Jeremy over to his car and helped him get situated in the passenger seat before getting in on his own side. Jeremy bit his lip and contemplated for a moment before hesitantly reaching over to grab hold of a fold of Michael's hoodie. The soft material grounded him, and Michael didn't seem to mind. 

 

**Of course I mind, Jeremy. You're so clingy and needy.**

 

Squip-Michael glitched into view, blocking the real Michael from Jeremy's sight. It was scowling. 

  
Jeremy ducked his head, but he didn't let go.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Me: This chapter doesn't make sense 
> 
> Also me: YoU nEeD to WrItE FluFF aNd kiSsEs 
> 
> Me: ...I am weak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here you go, some much-needed fluff. Even if it doesn't actually make much sense because I really kind of lost my flow about halfway through OH WELL. 
> 
> Also... I love shorty Michael

“It told you _what_?!” Michael snarled, taking Jeremy's hands into his own. They had decided to crash at Michael's house, since it was closer, and somehow fallen into discussing the Squip.

 

“I-it said that I was holding you b-back. That I was a burden to you,” Jeremy stammered, shrinking away from Michael's furious tone. 

 

“That's bullshit, Jeremy!” 

 

Jeremy flinched. 

 

“Hey…” Michael's voice softened. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you.” 

 

Jeremy shrugged and let Michael ease closer, laying his head on his friend's shoulder with a small sigh. 

 

“It's okay,” he mumbled, “I'm just tired, I guess. It makes me jumpy.”

 

Michael frowned, putting an arm around Jeremy. He wanted answers, but his Player Two looked like he was ready to sleep himself into a coma. Squips apparently took a huge toll on the body as well as the mind. 

 

Which reminded him… 

 

Gently, he took hold of Jeremy's wrist and raised it for examination. He had felt something off about the skin there earlier, and now he could see the tiny blue streak that probably could have been mistaken for a doodle, if Jeremy was the type to draw on his arms. Running his thumb over it, he realized what had seemed so peculiar. The skin felt smooth and cool, more like soft metal than flesh. 

 

“Mikey? C-can we go to bed, please? I promise I'll answer your questions later.” Jeremy somehow managed to sound nervous even with a drowsy voice, and Michael immediately felt bad. 

 

“‘Course, Jere. You go ahead and lay down, I'll set up the inflatable-”

 

“No!” Jeremy blurted, jerking upright. He blushed. “I-I mean, it just seems like a lot of effort for no reason. Your bed is b-big enough for both of us, right?”

 

Squip-Michael had been strangely quiet, but now it flickered into view behind Michael and sneered at Jeremy. When it spoke, it didn't bother to use Michael's voice. 

 

**That has got to be the saddest reason ever to share a bed. Honestly, Jeremy, just let Michael have his space. What makes you think he would willingly sleep with you?**

 

Jeremy flinched and ducked his head, eyes fixating on Michael's hand, still curled loosely around his wrist. 

 

“Hey,” Michael lowered his head into Jeremy's line of sight, smiling. He ended up shifting his entire body with a small “oof” until he was on his back, head resting in Jeremy's lap. “That sounds fine. I'm definitely up for anything that gets me out of extra work.”

 

Jeremy laughed softly, and before he could second-guess himself, he started playing with Michael's hair, running his fingers through the short strands. Michael sighed. 

 

“If you keep doing that, I'm going to fall asleep on you,” Michael warned, smiling sleepily. “C'mon, let's lay down.”

 

Michael sat up, leaving Jeremy to bite his lip at the loss of heat before he followed, and they positioned themselves underneath the covers, facing each other. They laid like that for a few minutes before Michael scooted closer and put his arms around Jeremy, tucking his head into the taller boy's chest. Jeremy felt his breath hitch, but then Michael murmured, “Is this okay?” and Jeremy relaxed, nodding. His chin bumped softly against the top of Michael's head. 

 

Michael smiled slightly, closing his eyes as Jeremy's warmth bled into him, and just as he was about to slip away into unconsciousness, he felt Jeremy shift, and then there were lips pressed to his forehead. Instantly, any urge to sleep died. Jeremy had just kissed him. Holy shit. Well, okay, maybe it wasn't technically a “real kiss,” but it was still something. It still made his heart leap. It still gave him hope that maybe, just maybe, Jeremy might love him back.

 

“Jere?” he mumbled, raising his head. Jeremy had his head smooshed into the pillow, eyes screwed shut, pretending to be asleep. Michael had to laugh. “Jeremy, I know you're awake.”

 

“No you don't.” Jeremy's voice was muffled by the pillow, and his arms retracted to his sides when Michael wriggled out of them to bring their faces level. The Squip was practically screaming in his ear. 

 

**He knows, Jeremy, he knows, he wasn't asleep, you _fuck-up_! He's going to hate you now, might as well tell him, he's going to _hate_ you.**

 

“Jeremy.” 

 

Jeremy opened his eyes and almost shrieked. Michael was _right_ in front of him, so close that their noses were almost touching. He tried to scoot back, but he was already on the edge of the bed. His heart pounded in his chest. 

 

And then Michael closed the distance. 

 

Jeremy could only register one thing at a time, his brain was so addled and short-circuited from the last few days. He felt a gentle hand on his cheek, felt the pillow beneath his head, felt the warmth of another body against his, and then finally he felt the soft press of Michael's lips against his, tender, careful. He gasped, and immediately, everything was gone but the pillow under his head. 

 

“Jeremy? Jeremy, I'm so sorry, I should have asked before I- but I just assumed, I mean-” 

 

Michael's frantic apology was cut short as Jeremy lunged forward and reconnected their lips, arms flying out to wrap around Michael, who sighed and relaxed into the kiss. 

 

“I love you,” Jeremy muttered when they pulled apart to breathe, ducking his head into Michael's shoulder. 

 

**Laying yourself bare, Jeremy? Never a good idea.**

 

“Aw, I love you too, you beautiful moron,” Michael replied, pressing a kiss to Jeremy's cheek. “I wish you would have told me sooner.”

 

**Yes, then maybe you wouldn't be so broken.**

 

“I'm sorry,” Jeremy whispered, wincing. Michael frowned and put his arms around Jeremy's thin body. 

 

“Jere, whatever it's saying, don't listen. We're going to kick it's ass, okay? You and me. ‘Cause it's an effed-up world, but it's still a two-player game.” 


	6. The Squip Gets Its Ass Kicked to HELL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! Thank you all so much for reading, leaving kudos, and especially for commenting. I read every one, and they mean the world to me.

Jeremy woke to warm blankets and a cold spot beside him that confused his head until it caught up to his sinking heart. Last night, falling away with safe arms wrapped around him and a soft voice singing sweetly.  _ Michael.  _ Where was Michael?

 

**He’s come to his senses,** the Squip taunted.  **He realized what a loser you are and left.**

 

All Jeremy could do was nod numbly and push back the covers, cold air swooping in around him. He groaned at the intrusion and swung his legs out of bed, freezing when he saw a familiar figure tapping away at his computer.

 

“Michael?”

 

“Hey, Jere, I’m glad you’re up. Come look at this!” 

 

Of course Michael hadn’t left. His Player One was a lot of things, but cruel was not one of them. (Unless, of course, video games were involved. That was a whole ‘nother story). Jeremy wanted to slap himself for listening to the Squip as he made his way over, but… that tic-tac could be pretty convincing. He didn’t even have to try. All he did was play to Jeremy’s fears, his abandonment issues, and his absolute dependency on his friend. It wasn’t a healthy structural buildup for a human, so was it really surprising that it was so easy to make him fall apart?

 

“Here, look at this,” Michael said, cutting into Jeremy’s thoughts as he motioned at the screen. “Heh, Heere.”

 

“Very original,” Jeremy deadpanned. On the screen was a chat log. 

 

**MellinHell joined the chat**

 

**MellinHell:** _ Hey Joe, you haven’t heard of a Squap by any chance, have you? Everyone I’ve talked to so far has said to ask you _

 

**MellinHell:** _ *Squip* _

 

**Iconi(s)c joined the chat**

 

**Iconi(s)c:** _ Mell you idiot are you telling me you seriously vored a supercomputer? _

 

**MellinHell:** _ No…. my fiend did _

 

**MellinHell:** _ *friend* _

 

**Iconi(s)c:** _ Well you need to get rid of it before it can do any lasting damage _

 

**MellinHell:** _ Wait so you’re saying yk how to get rid of it? _

 

**Iconi(s)c:** _ Yeah but it’s not easy. The only successful way I’ve heard of is Mountain Dew Red _

 

**MellinHell:** _ But that was discontented years ago!  _

 

**MellinHell:** _ *discontinued* autocorrect, sorry _

 

**Iconi(s)c:** _ Always be aware of autocorrect lol. And yeah it was, but I bet you have a six-pack in your basement _

 

**MellinHell:** _...maybe. But what about the people who don’t? What happens to them? _

 

**Iconi(s)c:** _ I don’t think you want to know _

 

**MellinHell:** _ Dude now I really want to tho _

 

**Iconi(s)c:** _ Get it out of your friend first, then I’ll tell you _

 

**Iconi(s)c left the chat**

 

“Dude, you suck at spelling,” Jeremy mumbled, trying to process this onslaught of infornation, the fact that he could actually be free of the Squip. “And why did you blame autocorrect? You were on the computer.”

 

“He doesn’t know that,” Michael replied. “And besides, what are you bashing my spelling for? I just found a way to get rid of your unwelcome companion!”

 

“My Squap.”

 

“Shut up! I don’t respect it enough to spell it right the first time,” Michael cried indignantly, grinning. Jeremy laughed.

 

“Oh my God, Michael, you are incredible.” 

 

Michael blushed, pulling his hoodie sleeves down to hide his hands. Jeremy smiled and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. The flush intensified.

 

“Incredible and adorable,” Jeremy decided. “Um, do you think we could go get that Mountain Dew now? As much as I love teasing you, I’d really rather do it without a digital you breathing down my neck.”

 

“Of course!” Michael hopped up and took Jeremy’s hand on instinct, the two of them almost running out the room and down the stairs. Michael stopped when the reached the basement door and fixed Jeremy with a curious look. “What do you mean, a digital me?”

 

“Oh. It, uh, it looks like you,” Jeremy admitted quietly, looking down at his feet to avoid the shocked, appalled expression on Michael’s face.

 

“Is that why… in the car, that first day, you thought-”

 

“I thought that it was you, or you were it, or whatever! Yes,” Jeremy interrupted. “Please, Micah, can we talk about this later?”

 

Michael nodded and opened the basement door, leading Jeremy down the steps and over to a mini-fridge in the corner. 

 

“Behold, my collection,” he announced grandly, opening the door. Inside sat a myriad of old sodas, most covered in a layer of dust. Michael reached in and carefully removed a bottle of Mountain Dew Red. The bottle shone dimly in the light. He offered it to Jeremy like a prize. 

 

Jeremy took the bottle reverently, unscrewing the cap. 

 

**Jeremy! Wait!**

 

The sudden reappearance of that nagging voice startled him, and Jeremy could  _ see,  _ in perfect detail, what would happen if he lost his grip. He saw himself dropping the bottle, red liquid splashing over the concrete, empty plastic rolling over the floor to stop at Michael’s feet. 

 

He didn’t lose his grip. 

 

**Jeremy, you don’t want to drink that.**

 

“What are you waiting for?” Michael asked, concerned eyes flashing over Jeremy’s face. 

 

**Listen, Jeremy, listen to me, I can help you. You don’t want to be popular, fine, that’s fine. But I can help you be better for Michael. I can help you be perfect for him.**

 

His hand shook. Maybe the Squip was right? He needed help. He wasn’t good enough, not for his mom. If the one person who was supposed to love him unconditionally left, how could he ever hope to be good enough for Michael? Michael was good, and incredible, and talented. Michael was  _ everything.  _ Michael was… 

 

Michael was taking his hand, gazing up at him with equal parts concern and adoration. 

 

“Am… am I good enough for you?” Jeremy whispered.

 

**No!**

 

“Jere, you are  _ perfect  _ for me,” Michael replied, squeezing his hand. 

 

“Then I don’t need you, Squip.” He raised the bottle to his lips, trying to ignore the threats that were starting to sound like autotune set to top volume. As soon as the first drops of liquid passed into his throat, everything stopped. 

 

And then the world exploded.

 

Light, sound, sensation, everything bombarded him at all once. Excruciating pain ripped through his skull, and digital screams rang in his ears. Dimly, he was aware of arms, holding him, a hand brushing his cheek, a soft, scared voice calling his name. 

 

Then the Squip was there, in front of him, in all his original Keanu Reeves glory, murder in his flickering, glitching eyes. 

 

**Jeremy-y-y-y-y-y-y J-J-Jere-m-m-my! You can’t ge-e-e-et rid-d-d of me that e-e-easi-ily**

 

Jeremy screamed, feeling like the world was pouring out from his throat, watching as the Squip vanished into a dim, blue glow with one last sneer. And then it was over, and the world was coming back into focus, and Michael, blessed Michael, was the first thing he saw. 

 

“Michael!” he cried, nearly sobbing as he threw his arms around Michael’s neck and pulled him down to crash their lips together. 

 

“Jere, hey,” Michael mumbled into the kiss. “ Are you okay?”

  
Jeremy pulled away long enough to nod. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to use the "here" Heere pun at least once. It's Iconi(s)c XD.

**Author's Note:**

> I figuratively live for kudos and comments. And come hit me up on Tumblr! I can't technology, but I'm amber-angel. Check me out!


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